who can find them. The others?â Death sat on the floor of what was now a grand ballroom and laid its weapon across its lap. âEach has been in contact with a potent nascent Power. Valerie will fill you in on that.â With a languid wave of its bony hand, Death said, âGood luck.â
With that, Death, the Host, all of Heaven disappeared. Ripples of the cosmic laughter lifted Lanceâs wings until he landed.
He was on Earth, in a gravel parking lot, standing next to a gleaming black Shelby Mustang with white Le Mans stripes.
C HAPTER 9
A nthony OâNeill, one of the four vampires left on Earth, hero of the French Resistance, recent instrument in the downfall of a presidential hopeful, and currently on his honeymoon, found his wife stoned out of her mind in an Amsterdam coffee shop.
The establishment was nice enough, at least, instead of one of those tiny ones that used cracked red plastic banquet chairs for seating. Glenath Tempesta, the love of his life, and her flowing skirts were draped over a worn velvet sofa. âHave some of the space cake. I havenât had anything this good since the sixties,â she giggled.
Her long, wild gray hair framed her sensual face and heavy gray smoke framed her luscious reclined body. Young skinny males buzzed around her, each vying for his darlingâs attention. Even in her sixties, Glenath turned menâs heads with her sensuality and earthy style.
âWhat am I going to do with you?â He couldnât help the big grin crossing his face at the reminder of their radical pasts. They had met in the 1960s when she was a newly ordained minister and determined to end the discrimination between mortals and paranormal creatures. Crazy in love, crazy over the possibilities before Anthonyâs maker forced them apart. It took forty years of struggle, but finally, he and his bride could celebrate their nuptials.
âSit, smoke with me,â she cooed, patting the seat next to her. The young men glared at him resentfully. He grinned. Anthony knew damn well he was the luckiest man in the world. What would it cost to humor her?
He took an experimental breath in and gagged at the overwhelming skunklike odor. Yeah, no go on that plan. Human recreational drugs didnât sit well with the undead.
âIâm taking you to the hotel,â he stated.
âYou used to be fun ,â she complained, her eyes rolling to the ceiling in stoned exaggeration.
A challenge, then. Without a change of expression, he bent down and picked her up. âIâll show you fun.â
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.
Glenath tasted like chocolate and the lingering residue of peyote. The chemicals swimming in her mouth made his tongue and lips tingle. He felt the hallucinogens race through his body, promising a dangerous ride.
Just like the woman in his arms. Glenath Tempesta was alive, vibrant, soft, and the wildest woman in the world. And she was all his.
âYou want a trip? Iâll show you a trip.â He bit her lip, drawing tiny dots of blood. Anthony suckled the potent blood. Reeling from the contact buzz, he carried her downstairs and into the rain. Still kissing, he walked them to the nearest red-framed window. A young woman sat on a stool, checking her phone.
âI donât do girls,â she warned as Anthony walked into her room.
He dug into his back pocket and threw a wad of cash at her. âGo get something to eat.â
There was more money in his roll than sheâd make on this quiet weeknight. She flipped off her light, put on her coat, and waved good-bye. âHave fun.â
âOh, we will,â Glenath mumbled around Anthonyâs fangs, making his cock buzz even harder.
He shoved Glenath against the window, pinning her against the cold, condensation-laced glass. âA vampire on drugs going to fuck you against the wall of a brothel.â Arrogantly, he forced her legs wider to accommodate